


ONE NIGHT IN LAFAYETTE

by Anne_Carter



Series: One Night [21]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 17:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17902139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Carter/pseuds/Anne_Carter
Summary: “I don’t know what you think you were doing out there, but we’re not doing this again,” Moxley growled.  “No more, you understand!  We’re not going back to that weak man who took the beatdowns protecting his so-called brothers!”Aftermath of RAW 2/18/2019.  Sequel to One Night In Grand Rapids.





	ONE NIGHT IN LAFAYETTE

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this late in the week. Culprit is a nasty cold I've been fighting. And apparently what I write while being dosed with Dayquil is pretty much gibberish.

“I’m damned tired of this! Rollins has no business being in the main event! Or any event at Wrestlemania! I’m taking care of him once and for all!”

Dean Ambrose watched from an open doorway as Drew McIntire bitched and moaned his way down the hallway.

_‘Again? This guy’s just not gonna get the message. Never mind him. Let him fight it out with Rollins.’_

Dean absently nodded as he started following McIntire.

_‘What are you doing? Aww…c’mon! We’re not gonna get away with another ambush!’_

“Rollins can’t beat Lesnar!” McIntire furiously told Triple H. “He doesn’t deserve to be in any event at Wrestlemania, let alone the main event! Give him to me tonight! I’ll prove I’m the better man, and he’s just too weak to get the job done!”

Dean saw the speculative look in Triple H’s eyes. “Rollins isn’t medically cleared,” he mumbled.

_‘Yeah, well, from the look on Trips’ face, I don’t think he cares. And neither should we.’_

Ambrose ignored the voice in his head as he stepped up to the other two men. “I’m not doing anything tonight? What about me?” He saw a look of dismissal in McIntire’s dark eyes and retaliated with a hard open-handed slap. As McIntire was rocked backwards, he simply turned around and walked away.

Triple H managed to keep from smiling. “Do you still want Seth or should I change the match to Dean Ambrose?”

“Change the damn match,” McIntire growled.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

_‘This is probably the stupidest idea you’ve had in a long time! Do you even have a plan?’_

Dean rolled his shoulders as his music began. “Working on it,” he mumbled as he stepped onto the stage.

_‘Well, that’s just great… you’re ‘working on it’. This is not our fight!’_

Dean climbed the steps to the ring and leaned back on the ropes. He made small movements with his fingers, encouraging the crowd to yell louder, then stepped into the ring.

_‘I hope your plan is something more than to just rile up the crowd.’_

Dean paced back and forth across the ring as McIntire stalked towards the ring. He locked eyes with the Scotsman as the introductions were made. As soon as the bell rang, Dean ran towards McIntire and received a headbutt for his trouble. Stumbling back, Dean fell to the mat.

McIntire grabbed Dean and began slapping him, screaming in his face. He pulled Dean to his feet and started to throw Dean into the ropes. Dean reversed it, sending McIntire through the ropes to the outside.

The crowd roared as Dean bounced off the ropes and took out McIntire with a suicide dive. He threw McIntire back into the ring and stunned him with a neck breaker.

_‘I thought you had a plan? You just making this up as you go?’_

Dean saw the Claymore kick coming and mentally stepped aside.

Moxley grunted as the Claymore kick knocked him to the mat. “What the hell?” he muttered. “What are you…” 

He never finished the sentence as a second Claymore kick put him flat on his back for a three count.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Moxley slammed the door to the shower room and locked it behind him. He stumbled to the sink and braced himself against the counter.

“What the **fuck** was that?” he demanded, breathing hard. When he didn’t get an answer, he raised his head and saw a reflection in the mirror.

A man wearing an Ambrose Asylum t-shirt…shaggy hair…bangs half covering the blue eyes. 

“You’re just in my head,” he snarled.

 _‘True.’_ The reflection nodded. 

“I don’t know what you think you were doing out there, but we’re not doing this again,” Moxley growled. “No more, you understand! We’re not going back to that weak man who took the beatdowns protecting his so-called brothers!”

 _‘I agree.’_ The reflection nodded again.

“Good.” Moxley ran his hands across his face. “Rollins is on his own. No more weakness.”

Moxley choked as he felt arms wrapping themselves around his neck. He immediately recognized the sleeper hold and stumbled back towards the wall, attempting to dislodge his attacker. All he felt was the hard wall slamming against his back.

_‘I’m just in your head. Remember? Just like you’ve been in mine.’_

“Dean?” Moxley gasped.

_‘Yeah. Dean.’_

Moxley struggled, arching away from the wall, but only felt the hold tighten around his neck.

_‘Thank you, Moxley. You helped me survive. A lot of times. I know I owe you, but this isn’t who I am…or how I want to be remembered. You saved my life in that hospital, and a lot of what you said to me then was true. But you had more in mind than what we agreed on, didn’t you?’_

“My turn…my turn at life,” Moxley gasped.

_‘Maybe. But you of all people should know just what a selfish bastard I really am. Besides, Renee’s not happy. And I can’t have that. My girl’s gonna be happy again. And I’m not going to lose my brothers even if I’m walking away from them.’_

Moxley felt his eyes closing as it became harder to breathe.

_‘But I owe you so you’re just going to go to sleep. I figured a couple of Claymore kicks would loosen your control enough for this. If I need you again, I’ll wake you. But you gotta go to sleep now.’_

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“I’m not walking into Wrestlemania with a death wish. I’m walking into Wrestlemanis with an acceptance of my fate.” Seth Rollin’s voice was exceptionally calm. He was unaware of the man who slowly walked up behind him. “As for my fate, whether I leave on my own two feet or carried out on a stretcher, I’m promise I’m leaving Wrestlemania as the Universal Champion.” Seth took a deep breath then turned away from the microphone. He was startled to see Dean standing behind him.

Seth watched as Dean winced and rubbed his neck, grunting in pain. “Can I help you with something?” he finally snapped. _‘Silence for two weeks and now show up like a damned jack-in-the-box? He’s seriously getting on my last nerve!’_

Dean irritably glared at him. “Yeah! Where were you when I was out there? Jeez…” He rubbed his neck again.

Seth stared at him in astonishment, automatically raising his hands in confusion. “Have you completely… **completely** lost your mind?” he finally asked. He wasn’t surprised when Dean appeared to ignore the question, but was surprised when seconds later, he received a wild wide-eyed stare from Ambrose. 

Dean’s blue eyes flicked for a second, accepting the silence in his head. “Eh,” he shrugged, then turned and walked away.

Stunned and surprised, Seth couldn’t say a word. 

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

The show was over and most of the talent was gone. Seth knew the locker rooms would probably be empty, the remaining talent either hanging around catering or in hallways waiting for their rides. He knew Renee had responsibilities after RAW went off the air and figured Ambrose was still in the locker room, waiting for her to join him. He mentally patted himself on the back when he opened the locker room door and saw Ambrose lounging on a bench, his packed suitcase leaning against a wall.

Dean looked up from his phone as the door opened. He motioned for Seth to come in as he typed a message. Then shoving the phone in his back pocket, he leaned forward. “Just caught me. Renee texted she’ll be ready to leave in about five minutes.”

Seth nodded and leaned against the closed door. Studying the older man, he realized something was different…but couldn’t put his finger on it. “What’s going on?” he finally asked.

Dean shrugged and half-smiled. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he finally answered. “All you need to worry about is getting to Wrestlemania in one piece and slaying the Beast. Preferably without getting hurt in the process.”

“I don’t need to worry about McIntire?” Seth wryly grinned.

Dean shrugged. “He might be a thorn in your side. Or maybe not.”

Seth’s dark eyes widened. “You’re the one behind the attacks on McIntire,” he whispered.

Dean scratched his jaw. “Sorta…maybe.” 

“Why?”

Dean shrugged. “Man can’t keep his big mouth shut.”

Seth waited for a better explanation, but Dean remained silent as he got to his feet and reached for his suitcase.

“I need to meet Renee.”

Seth stepped away from the door. He stared at the man he still called his brother who gave him a questioning look.

“Dean, are you…back?” When Dean gave him a bemused look, he shook his head and tried again. “I mean…you seem a little different…and…” Seth realized Dean was getting more and more amused. He waved his hand as though dismissing his half-formed sentences.

Dean opened the door, then looked at Seth. “I meant what I said months ago. The Shield always rides into battle together.”


End file.
